Käthy Kruse

the hands that made the hands
then passed her to the second set
the hands that plucked the human
hairs & threaded them into a wig
the hands she passed her to then
sewing on the little yellow jacket
passing then to unknown hands that
gave her eyes to see herself mouth
to breathe in cotton hands to hold
her head until she fell asleep
two hands that made her cheeks
pink in case she was called upon
to blush the hands that filled her
little belly full of sp‰tzle or
gruel hands that kept her upright
while they sewed her tiny feet
into place made her shoes & then
left her there wobbling but alive
alone but made of human hands
of hair the petite skirt to hide
her girlhood hair combed then
platted maybe depending upon
her mood & then the hands that
transplanted the still-beating
hand-made heart into her chest
her covered breasts & silken brain
with which k‰thy produced her
first truly human thought: their
hands have stroked my arms & legs
my doll’s face into dreams … my
heart that beats like a baby drum